*This has been edited. It did not feel true or accurate in a few places. It feels better now… I think.
Well, I managed to hurt myself. I think I’ve popped a blood vessel in my eye or somesuch. I can’t get into see my eye doctor until tomorrow, but the headache has mostly dissipated, and I can open the eye, though it doesn’t seem to be self-hydrating properly…
Meanwhile, my heart hurts, too.
It’s possible the two pains may be related. I have done quite a bit of crying lately.
Not all for the same boy, mind you. Just… I’ve been quite sad lately. Fall tends to bring out the romantic in me more so than the Spring. I think I feel older in the Fall, and so I feel more ready to be settled, and yet I’m anything but settled.
I have been trying to reconnect with the Boy, though both our friends seem to think this is a bad idea. And perhaps it is. We have these really great outings during the week, where I think everything is going well, and then on the weekends, it all falls apart.
Once, he jumped to the conclusion that I was insinuating that I couldn’t be around him and his friends because they were all jerks. Obviously not a true statement since I had become something akin to friends with a few of his friends.
Rather, I was saying that I am uncomfortable because he has a certain way he speaks with his friends that makes me uneasy and I wasn’t prepared to do that yet. When before, during the first incarnation of our twisted tale, I tried to explain to him that I wasn’t ready to meet his friends, he pushed. He asked me eight times to go and hangout with them. A thing that most people tell me was a sign that he wanted me to be a part of his life, and yet, when it did make me uncomfortable and it led to me only being able to talk about him (after he left me there to talk with them all on my own while he was offshore) because he was the only thing we had in common, it ended particularly badly.
As I explained it to some of my coworkers, they assumed I was obsessed with him, when in reality there was nothing else that I knew was safe to discuss. I didn’t like the same movies as them, didn’t play the same games, didn’t even read the same books as them. There was NO reason whatsoever for me to interact with those people other than he asked me to do so, and yet, to this day he still acts like I was the one in the wrong where they were concerned. He took their side, and immediately went running screaming into the underbrush because he didn’t know me well enough to understand what my problem with the situation was.
And I didn’t know him well enough to explain. Every attempt I made to do so was met with sarcasm and defensiveness.
And he pulled away further and further, while I clung to him like taffy.
Since then, he and I have learned better how to communicate, but there is this seemingly unending power struggle that I don’t understand.
He thinks I don’t need to know things that are important to how we interact with each other. It feels like he gets to make decisions about what is our next step, but I’m not allowed to even be a part of the conversation, and it is hurtful.
I want to be clear that I know that it feels that way, and may not entirely be that way. One of our biggest struggles since trying to be friends in this iteration of our… whatever this is, is that both of us are guilty of assumptions. I’m probably more guilty of it than he is, and I’m decidedly more emotional than he is, too…
Either way, I do often feel as if he has most of the power in our interactions, and I get frustrated at not having a say in my own life.
I’m ever so tired of not feeling like I have any say in what happens next in my relationships. I’m completely at the whim of each and every guy who decides that he’s interested. I have to fit their mold of what a girl should be. Not even a girlfriend, just a girl.
I have to be demure for some, or spicy for others. Some want me to be decisive, and then decide I’m too decisive. Some decide I don’t look right after weeks of communication via phone and text, even though they’ve seen plenty of pictures of me.
I’m too fat, or too tall, or too outspoken, or too busy, or any number of things that all amount to the same conclusion:
Even for the Boy, where it’s definitely not a girlfriend thing… I’m still just not right somehow.
And I’m tired of it! I AM a GOOD CATCH!!!
I make my own money, pay my own bills (for the most part… I am still staying with a friend but that should hopefully be remedied soon), have my own car, do not have children. I’m a hard worker (though perhaps some would argue not hard enough), love my students, and yet still have room in my heart for romance. When I love, I love with every ounce of my being, and I’m faithful… unlike the multitude of men that have come through my life.
Not a one has been interested in me and only me since Abilene, TX… nearly 15 years ago. Not one man in all the dozens that I’ve met or dated has wanted a relationship with me and only me in 15 years.
Obviously I must be broken.
And yet the Boy tells me I cannot think that way. He tells me that there are people out there who care about me, that are interested in me… just not him.
And yet he fights to keep me around… so long as it’s on his terms.
Then again, if I push, he sometimes does things on MY terms. Like just today, I needed to see him face to face because so many of our fights seem to happen because we’re still communicating primarily by text and by phone call, and it seems to be obvious to me that that is a big part of our problem.
So I put my foot down; I risked making him the uncomfortable one. Since he forces me to accept his will so very often, I felt this one time I had a right to ask it. It was uncomfortable, for both of us, but we had a conversation that I think was necessary. And yes, I did feel slightly vindicated that he would do as I asked, since he always makes me justify any request I make.
That has been a particular point of contention with us for a while: he gets to make decisions and I am just supposed to accept them, while any single request I make, he forces me to justify why I’m asking for that thing. From going out, to staying in, to talking on the phone. Every. Single. Thing.
So, yes, I put my foot down because this was a thing I needed in order to feel like we were communicating properly. To feel like we were on the same page, finally.
On the one hand, I do feel bad that he was uncomfortable. On the other, I do feel very strongly that it needed to happen this way. Only time will tell if it was truly justified. It meant a lot to me that he would do this thing for me. I don’t think he understands just how much it means to me that he would do this thing for me in spite of it making him uncomfortable. And in the moment, I did feel very guilty because he arrived ready to go to battle, it seemed.
But every ounce of me believes that we made progress today.
And now, we’ve begun again. The clock has restarted, as he says.
I need us to be able to hang out calmly more than twice in a row. Without a fight. This is what has to happen in order for me to feel truly comfortable with him. I have to see that there is effort on his part, that he wants me around, and is willing to put forth some of the effort since it feels a lot of the time that I’m putting forth so much more effort than he is.
Maybe that’s just my perception of the situation. I’m trying to understand, and be calm. I just don’t know what the end goal is anymore. How do I know when we’ve gotten to a good place? I thought we were headed there, and then there was a horrible blow up again. The type that left me crying myself to sleep and may very well be the cause of whatever is wrong with my eye.
(I tried to take a picture, but it’s not as red in the photo as it is in real life. I think perhaps it was because I was in selfie mode trying to take the picture. It also looks fuzzier, as in unclear, and smaller than it is in real life.)
The whole thing has been rather unpleasant, and it has made for a not so great Halloween for me. I know we’re not dating, and haven’t been for a long time. I just don’t know what we’re doing anymore.
But, after discussing with him, we are still trying. He pointed out that the fact that we’re still working on it should show that I’m not as unimportant as I keep trying to say I am. Strange how that makes me feel slightly better.
Not a whole helluva lot better. But some…
On the other hand, perhaps all of this is just the emotional fodder I need to get me rolling on NaNoWriMo, which kicks off at midnight tonight. Maybe that’s the only purpose to him in my life at all anymore.